Headlines & Life

Earlier today I was breezing through the headlines as fast as I could go, never wanting to get caught up in anything too deeply. I like to stay informed by headline so I don’t get too frenzied or callused by it all. I read a lot but I try to limit how much news and commentary I take in. I listen to audiobooks a lot also. Free audiobooks and wireless ear pods are finer things in life. The craziness of the news can get me way too fired up. What is fact? What is crap? How can they spew such blatant propaganda? I mutter things like “useful idiots” and “mental disorder”. Does anyone ever carry these things out to their conclusions? We can’t be that crazy, can we? Sometimes I even break into song - making up the lyrics as I go. Amusing myself for sure with my little diddies.

The truth is that I really enjoy politics and debate. I love it. I like the folks who do what they say they are going to do. I especially like the folks who get the right things done. I am not fond of political lying, cheating, and stealing but every part of the game fuels my giddy-up. I have determined to limit myself, otherwise that is all I think about when I should be focused on more important things. When it’s time to lose myself in meditation I’d rather be lost in much more positive things, like becoming an awesome man, husband, and father. The things that I do have control of.

I am not a right-wing or a left-wing guy and I’m definitely not in the middle. I like logic and I like to be right. I like to know that I know that I am right. When I know I am right I get dimples and twinkles - sly, pompous, dimples and twinkles of sweet joy to be sure. When one finds themselves contrary to my rightness they will likely be very frustrated. They may even lose their composure, which is not always the best way for me to win friends and influence people. Embarrassing ourselves through ignorance or foolishness is never fun and always leaves a mark. For many years now I ask myself, “When they leave our conversation or think of me later, do they see Jesus or one of the politicians or figureheads they hate?”

I think that is one of the reasons I like to preach the Word of God so much. In those brief moments I can be right, Super-right. I believe that the fine art of preaching lies in the ability to communicate truth (what is right), applying it to all of us without condescension or superiority, allowing our Lord to do what only He can do in our hearts. When you can do that you have every right to have permagrin.

The truth is what keeps me sane. It keeps me balanced. Truth is what allows me to remain calm in the midst of craziness. Last night Jill was expressing her concerns about the world around us. She asked me if I was concerned? I replied, “Not really,” then I asked her if she preferred me to be freaking out. She said, “If you start freaking out, I’m going to really start freaking out!” I think being as “cool as the other side of the pillow” is a strength but I know there is a fine line between calm confidence and fickle indifference. I like to think I am the former but only God knows for sure.

The headlines today scream impending doom, fear, hatred, anger, and blame. One headline caught me unexpectedly sideways, “Coronavirus now third leading cause of US deaths…” I started thinking about our leading causes of death. I got very emotional for a few seconds. I almost cried thinking of how sad and destructive it is to kill someone. Knowing you have taken a life out of convenience or fear. Knowing it was a choice and it didn’t have to happen. Killing someone has to tear you apart from the inside for the rest of your life. The intrinsic value of our life is so absolute that taking someone else’s life rages against our hearts. It must affect every relationship and decision forever. I have walked a mile or two down on a lot of different paths in life but I have never had to walk a mile in shoes that have taken innocent blood. I have no idea what that is like. I pray that my life will be love and compassion to those that have. I also pray that my logic and reason will always lead to life.

Recently an old man died that I think I would have liked to share a good laugh and a Coke with. So much to glean from our elders. I didn’t really give it much thought until he was gone.

A few weeks ago we learned that a friend from our hometown has cancer. That struck me in my heart also. I don’t think I have seen her since high school but the memories of our childhood together came flooding back. We were in the same class K-12. Before junior high (when I discovered other distractions) we competed for the best grades. I think I came in second or third most of the time. Good memories of more innocent times. I thought of when she lost her best friend, her husband, the father of her beautiful children several years ago now. I think of her daily and pray for her and all of her little ones. Life is so precious.

My son and his bride revealed the gender of our first grandchild this week. When I found out it was a boy I did a little dance around the house. I couldn’t help myself. A rush of happy-happy made me silly for a few seconds as I grabbed Gabriella’s hands and twirled around the house singing, “My family name continues! My family name continues! Baby Pete Farrell! Baby Pete Farrell.” I’m pretty sure his name will not be Pete. They were discussing potential names a few weeks ago. None of them were anything related to my side of the family. I mentioned it jokingly to Jill afterward. She calmly responded, “What are you talking about? You get the best part.” My face was stuck on smile for the rest of the evening. I’m smiling right now. It sounds a little selfish and trite I know but no matter what his first name is, his jersey will say, “FARRELL”. So sweet.

Twilight Zone!

When I was a little girl, I loved to watch this strange show called The Twilight Zone. It was the 1980s revival of the old classic sci-fi series. Each episode told a tale or two, founded upon horror or suspense, often with a surprising twist at the end. When we feel like we’re caught between reality and some dream world. When we feel like everything around us is no longer normal. Today I find myself thinking, “I feel like I am in the twilight zone.” It seems like the world around me gets stranger and stranger week by week.

This week our US Senate voted on the Born-Alive Abortion Survivors Protection Act. Basically, it would have required that "any health care practitioner present" when an abortion was performed but the baby has been born alive, “exercise the same degree of professional skill, care, and diligence to preserve the life and health of the child as a reasonably diligent and conscientious health care practitioner would render to any other child born alive at the same gestational age." It would also require practitioners make attempts to “ensure that the child born alive is immediately transported and admitted to a hospital." It was voted down. (See more here: Albert Mohler article)

I read a quote from New Hampshire’s Senator Jeanne Shaheen, “This bill is just another line of attack in the ongoing war on women’s health.” What? How in the world is giving a baby born alive medical care, an attack on women’s health?? Am I in the Twilight Zone? I am still waiting for the surprising twist.

Infanticide Definition: “the CRIME of killing a child within a year of birth. Causes of infanticide often involve extreme emotional disturbance; A person who kills an infant, especially their own child.”

I found that definition in the dictionary! The next step is changing our dictionaries to fit their agenda. You remember that from History class, right? The book burnings in Nazi Germany and in Austria in the 1930’s. The books targeted for burning were those viewed as being subversive or those that represented ideologies opposed to Nazism.

Today I felt very angry, and perplexed. What is going on?? Who voted for these people? How did we get here? This is insanity.

“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour:” (1 Peter 5:8)

Injustice moves me to anger and anger moves me to action. It motivates me to do something. I immediately started to pray, “Lord, please intervene.” I started to read Psalms 106.

“Praise ye the Lord. O give thanks unto the Lord; for he is good: for his mercy endureth for ever. Who can utter the mighty acts of the Lord? who can shew forth all his praise? Blessed are they that keep judgment, and he that doeth righteousness at all times. Remember me, O Lord, with the favour that thou bearest unto thy people: O visit me with thy salvation; That I may see the good of thy chosen, that I may rejoice in the gladness of thy nation, that I may glory with thine inheritance. We have sinned with our fathers, we have committed iniquity, we have done wickedly … But were mingled among the heathen, and learned their works. And they served their idols: which were a snare unto them. Yea, they sacrificed their sons and their daughters unto devils, And shed innocent blood, even the blood of their sons and of their daughters, whom they sacrificed unto the idols of Canaan: and the land was polluted with blood.” (Psalm 106:1-6,35-38)

My anger turned to sorrow. Can it get any worse? We as a nation are knowingly shedding innocent blood, our own sons and daughters! I wonder what it looked like in the days of Noah? What were the people doing the day the first rain drops fell? Or how about in Sodom? What were those people doing at the time fire started to fall from the sky? I am guessing they were doing just what they always did, living their lives without even a thought of the consequences.

“Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” (Matthew 18:19-20)

We don’t want it to be ever said of us that we were critical or complainers or whiners and we did nothing about it. We are starting a monthly prayer meeting at our house to pray specifically for the marginalized, the oppressed, the most vulnerable among us. What we schedule, we get to. If you feel equally motivated – join us or start your own in your home. Sometimes we feel like or say, “all we can do is pray.” The reality is, the greatest and best thing we can do is pray. We demonstrate the Gospel in this way. Interceding on behalf of all of our most vulnerable is one of the greatest commitments we can make. This often overlooked or minimized opportunity to lift our concerns to the throne of God really can make a difference in us and out there.

If you are in the Rochester area, please consider joining our prayer meeting. Contact us below for more info.

“If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14)

Jill

“They are not laughing at you Jilly. They are laughing at me.”

I was recently scrolling through Facebook and a post caught my attention. A woman was asking/making a statement, “I just don’t understand why a baby just can’t be delivered to save a mother of whatever health issue a baby is causing to endanger her life. What is the point of killing the baby? The baby can still live and so can the mother.” As you can imagine, she received all kinds of responses. One comment stood out to me. It has since been removed, but the woman was defending the right to choose to kill a baby based on their known disabilities. Her reasoning came from her past experience with working in a “home” with these “disabled” individuals. In her opinion, their lives weren’t worth living. There were several people that shared her opinion. I wasn’t as surprised that she felt that way, (it seems like many people do) as I was that she admitted it in writing for all to read. Having a lack of compassion is one thing, promoting it is another. Had she been raised to believe that way? Was that type of thinking just a natural outcome from the lack of intentionally training her to be kind to all people?

I thought of my childhood and the perspective my experiences gave me. I am so thankful for my story. My mother was very compassionate. Her life was sometimes complicated but her strength came from her genuine concern and compassion for others. She loved big. She didn’t hesitate to correct me when I was being unkind or selfish. I still remember her saying, “If you don’t have enough for everyone, do not eat it in front of them!” “If you are not willing to share then don’t get that out!” “Always stand up to a bully even if you are the only one standing!” “Be kind.” I think of my little girls. Lord, help me to raise them to love like you love, to see people as you see them, to be compassionate.

“Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous:” (1 Peter 3:8 )

My mother’s younger sister had Down Syndrome. I don’t remember ever being curious or asking what that meant. She spoke a little different than the rest of us. She sometimes needed a wheelchair when she got tired. She walked slow and was a little wobbly on her feet. As a little girl I had no idea she was “disabled.” She was my family, my friend. I loved her and she loved me. She was 20 when I was born. My mother and her were only a few years apart, so she was like my second mother but also my peer. We grew up together.

When I was a little girl she still liked playing with dolls, board games and her swing set. So naturally we played together. She loved television. We watched Charlie’s Angels, Mork And Mindy, Three’s Company, oh and we loved The Love Boat! She loved Strawberry Quik and Sunkist pop and so did I. She did not love my curly hair. She always seemed to want to “fix” it. She would brush my hair until it looked like a frizzy, lion’s mane then proclaim, “That’s much better!” She would also give me my “adjustments.”

My Aunt went weekly to the chiropractor. My Grandmama believed that an “adjustment” was the answer to every ailment. Therefore, my Aunt Teresa went often and was basically an expert. If I had a problem she would say, “Jilly, lay down! You need an adjustment!” And if she said so, I listened! I do remember lying flat on my stomach, as she snapped and popped my neck, thinking, “I wonder if I should let her do this? She’s not REALLY a doctor.”

My mind is flooded with these good memories. Like her teaching my sisters and I to dance like the “Solid Gold dancers.” One time she got some Lottery scratch off tickets. She started yelling that she was a winner. No one really believed that she had won. We didn’t even know she knew how to play! She kept saying, “Thank you God. I am a winner!” “Girls, your aunt is good!” When we checked her ticket, she really had won! She insisted on taking the whole family out for dinner, and “I am paying!” She was a gift to my family, not a “disability.” She taught us all how to love unconditionally. We are each unique and that is what makes us beautiful. God doesn’t make mistakes. He is the Creator of all.

“For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well. My substance was not hid from thee, when I was made in secret, and curiously wrought in the lowest parts of the earth. Thine eyes did see my substance, yet being unperfect; and in thy book all my members were written, which in continuance were fashioned, when as yet there was none of them.” (Psalms 139:13-16)

I believe those words! I want to raise my children to believe those words. I want to lead my children by my example. Be kind. Always be kind. It will make a difference. My mother worked at a residential home for the developmentally disabled. She loved her “guys.” I often stopped after school to talk to my mother at that home. My mother was a natural caregiver. Those guys were her friends. She was never uncomfortable around them, just like they were her family. I am so thankful for her example. Both of my sisters grew up to choose career paths in fields that support the developmentally disabled in their communities. I know it is because of our childhood, our mother and our family.

About 10 years ago I spent the summer with my sister. She lives in Kotzebue, Alaska, a village about 200 miles north of Nome. At the time she worked in a residential home similar to the one my mother worked at, only smaller. Every day I would walk to visit my sister at work. She is also a natural caregiver, very much like my mother. She loved her guys too! They were her family and her friends. I noticed something different in that Alaskan village. Everybody loved her guys. They were a vital part of their community. They weren’t considered different in a negative or uncomfortable way. They were family and accepted by all. I still remember going shopping with my sister and one of her friends, a big guy named James. He was greeted in that small-town store by every person he saw. He was LOVED by his community. James had a best buddy named Bert that lived in the same home. I can still see those two sitting on the couch watching tv like any ordinary best friends. Their home was peaceful and comforting. Their rooms were decorated with thoughtfulness and love, like any cherished child’s room would be. They were part of a family and a community and they knew it too! I learned a lot from that little Alaskan community.

One night my Aunt Teresa asked me to go to the movies with her. Just a girl’s night for the two of us. I will never forget that night as long as I live. We got ready together. She let me borrow her perfume. She loved her expensive perfume. I fixed her hair and even put some makeup on her. We were then dropped off at the movies, bought our own tickets, popcorn and drinks. Oh, how fun it was for her to be out without parents! We picked our seats, settled in and enjoyed that movie. I remember her laugh, her smiling. The movie had ended and we were trying to follow the crowd to the exit. People were pushing on us from all sides. It had been a sold-out movie. My aunt was a little uneasy on her feet. She was short with a big backside and carried that figure on tiny feet. As I tried to hold her hand to steady her, the crowd started to get pushier and somewhat irritated at her slow pace through the exit doors. All of a sudden, I felt a physical push, and an angry, “OH MY GOD, MOVE!!!” And then I heard laughing. I don’t know if it was my love for her, my fear she would fall, or just the shock that people could be so mean but I quickly turned around and started shouting at them, “Stop pushing her!! Back up!! What is wrong with you?!” To be honest I think my adrenaline took over and I don’t remember what else I shouted. What I do remember was my aunt’s reaction, “Jilly, Jilly! You look at me!! They are NOT laughing at YOU! They are laughing at ME!!” Those words will be forever burned in my mind. She knew. She had had a lifetime of encounters similar to that, being pushed around and being laughed at all because she was different, beautiful and valuable, but different. I changed that night. I silently made a promise to my beloved aunt that night, “I will always stand up for those who cannot defend themselves. I will not follow the crowd when the crowd is wrong!”

I remember the first time I read the Bible through from cover to cover. I made a list of the attributes of God and I started to fall in love with Him. He is love. He is the great judge. He is compassionate. He is a father to the fatherless. He is the defender of the weak. We as His people are supposed to look more like Him and less like the crowd around us. We are supposed to defend the weak, the fatherless and the widows.

“A father of the fatherless, and a judge of the widows, is God in his holy habitation. God setteth the solitary in families: he bringeth out those which are bound with chains.” (Psalms 68:5-6)

I want to encourage the mothers and fathers reading this. Parent with purpose. Train your children to be kind and compassionate. Look for opportunities to serve with them. Stand up for the weak when your children are watching and listening. Defend those who cannot defend themselves. Raise your children to positively impact their community and their sphere of influence. Don’t allow your children to be mean. Train them to be givers. My children know they are loved and cherished. They also know that because I love them, I will correct them. I sit here watching my little girls. They think they are their baby brother’s second mommies. They love him! I look at him and think of my dear aunt. Thank you, God! You are a good Father! You have given this priceless gift to my family. My girls WILL know to be kind to ALL people. They will see the beauty in your creation, every unique part.

“O Lord, how manifold are thy works! in wisdom hast thou made them all: the earth is full of thy riches.” (Psalms 104:24)

Jilly

My 18th Birthday

I remember the day well, September 13, 1993. It was my 18th birthday. I had just started college two weeks prior. I lived by myself in a beautiful, furnished, studio apartment in a bed and breakfast three miles from my school. I hadn’t been feeling well ever since I moved in. I would wake up throughout the night and run to the bathroom to throw up. I woke up every morning nauseous and it continued through my day. I had lost almost 10 pounds in the two weeks since school had started. Deep down I knew why. I was so afraid. I was ashamed. How would I tell my family? My boyfriend? My friends? I kind of wished I could just disappear, leaving behind a note saying that I loved them and would miss everyone but that I decided to go on an adventure and I wouldn’t be returning. That way I wouldn’t have to face everyone and deal with the consequences of my “mistake.”

I decided to drive up the road to CVS and buy a pregnancy test. Sitting on the floor of that tiny bathroom, on my 18th birthday, I saw the dark “+” immediately appear. Tears streamed down my face. What would I do now??? My mom had just spent all of her savings to get my piece of junk car to pass inspection. I had used my savings to put the security deposit down on my apartment and first three months’ rent. I had just figured out all my financial aid for school and had used my scholarship money to buy all of my books. Besides the few hundred dollars I had hid in my drawer, I was broke. I was hoping and planning to get a local waitressing job as soon as possible. Again, what would I do now? My options were pretty bleak. My Mom had had a very rough five years. Our stepfather had a stroke and had been in a coma ever since. She had been working fulltime, raising my sisters and I as a single parent and driving back and forth the almost 80 minute drive to the nursing home he was at for five years. In that same time, she had been injured at work and had become addicted to pain and sleeping medications. I really had no desire to add to her burdens.

In the weeks and months that followed my 18th birthday the word “abortion,” was mentioned to me many times, by family, by friends, and by EVERY doctor I saw! “You are young, you have the world ahead of you, you can always try again when you’re older and ready.” Even at 18, abortion seemed wrong to me. It was ending a life. Regardless of the reasons why, it was ending a life. I found myself feeling unsure, maybe they’re right? I have absolutely nothing to offer this baby. Was I putting an unnecessary burden on this child by allowing him to be born? Abortion would be the easiest option. I had quit school, moved back in with my mom and had gotten a job at the little store in my hometown. Daily I had to see people. My growing belly was like living with a scarlet “A” on my forehead. I tried to work past the shame and embarrassment and find joy in my situation, but it was hard.

One day when I got home from work I opened my bedroom door to find the baby’s crib all decorated with the most adorable crib set. My oldest sister had saved up to buy it and surprise me. It was light blue with stars, moons and little bunnies. She even put up matching wall decorations and a matching mobile. She may not know this, but that day was a turning point for me. It gave me hope! It encouraged me that he WOULD be loved and cared for. That little act of kindness and support was powerful.

The passing of New York’s Reproductive Health Act has literally made me ill. How can such a thing happen in 2019 in the United States of America? How can we as a Country fall so far backwards? I remember learning in U.S. History class about the Civil Rights Movements. Two separate decade-long movements of passing and enforcing laws to ensure equal rights to African Americans. We were taught about our country’s dark past of ignorance, intolerance and lack of understanding the value of life and that all lives are created equal. We were taught that the U.S. was a work in progress, learning from history and moving forward. There were several Civil Rights Acts of the late 1800’s. You remember the Civil Rights Act of 1866, it abolished slavery! It would then be 82 years before another Civil Rights Act would be signed, the Civil Rights Act 1957. Followed by the Civil Rights Act of 1960, 1964, 1968, and again in 1991. In 1990 the Americans with Disabilities Act was signed, “The ADA is the most sweeping disability rights legislation in history.” Can you imagine that we would have to sign into law a civil right stating you cannot discriminate based on a person’s skin tone or based on their disabilities? I am thankful we did or else my youngest son’s future would look much different.

Many of the articles I have read that try and justify the need for late term abortion point out that it would most likely be used to terminate a child with known disabilities. What? I thought we worked on that ignorance in 1990 with the Americans Disabilities Act!

I think about the day my first son was born. My doctor sitting in front of me telling me he was so sorry he hadn’t noticed it on the ultrasounds. Doctors and nurses in and out of my room, so many words muffled in my ears, “emergency, live, 10% chance, feeding tube, bloodwork, cleft palate, cleft lip, rare syndrome, surgery, survival, normal, medical transport, plastic surgeon, expectancy… Jill, do you hear me? Do you understand what I am saying?” I didn’t really. I just kept thinking don’t cry, smile or else they are going to think you are too young or not capable of caring for your baby. If I had been pregnant with him in 2019 there is a good chance the doctor would have notice his defects in the ultrasounds. I fear as a young, scared, uncertain, teen mom they would have suggested abortion as the wisest and best option. And if it were 2019, in New York State and they noticed it in my 36th week ultrasound, abortion would still be an acceptable option. This new law completely disregards a baby with disabilities as having any value. The only value given comes in how the baby’s mother feels about that baby. Does she say he has value?

Do you see the problem here? For the last 150 years we as a country have been working to rid our society of ignorance. We have attempted to move closer to being a society that lives according to our foundational truths. “We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness—That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed, that whenever any Form of Government becomes destructive of these Ends it is the Right of the People to alter or to abolish it, and to institute new Government, laying its Foundation on such Principles, and organizing its Powers in such Form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect their Safety and Happiness.”

New York, you have lost your mind. My oldest son’s life had and still has value not because I say so but because God says so. My youngest son has Down Syndrome and regardless of what Governor Cuomo and the New York Senate think, his life has value. Again, not because I say so but because God says so.

This isn’t about women’s rights. It is about human rights!

“For thou hast possessed my reins: thou hast covered me in my mother's womb. I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well.” (Psalms 139:13-14)

I want to encourage my friends and family to continue to stand up for these children – in and out of the womb. Find a way to make a difference and stay committed. We cannot allow this to be normalized. Our children need to be taught and raised to know better. I am absolutely for women’s rights. I am a woman and I am raising two daughters. Their lives are full of choices. They are being raised to be critical thinkers. The choice of who’s life is valuable and who’s is not, is NOT one of their choices. A critical thinker can figure that one out without a doubt.

I used to think about what it must have been like to be a voice for equal rights in the late 1800’s when slavery was being abolished. Would I have been brave enough to be one of the change agents or would I have just gone along with the ignorance of society? Would I have opened my home and family to those that were just freed? What if I was a student or parent during the 1950’s? Would I have stood up for what was right? Would I have had the courage to say, “You have lost your minds! All children are equal! All of their lives are of great value! Of course they can ALL go to the same schools and drink from the same drinking fountains!”

I believe we as a nation are standing in the face of an evil injustice. We as Christians cannot stand by, stay silent, and do nothing. Did you happen to see Oprah Winfrey’s “Shout Your Abortion,” magazine feature from last spring? She is taking her stand! As are many others like her. I want to stand up and “Shout my Adoption!!” Yes, it was a commitment and a family sacrifice but our children are worth it!

Body of Christ, let’s do something together. We have to start with fervent prayer. We need God! Have you ever thought, what if those babies hadn’t been aborted? Just in New York State that is around 85,000 or more babies a year. If they were allowed to live, what would happen to them? Who would care for them? Would their mother get the support she needs to do it? Would they be put up for adoption? Would there be enough people willing to adopt them all? I don’t have the answers. I don’t see a solution without God’s Intervention. He is the answer.

As for me and my family we will serve the Lord! Whoever He puts in our path, by God’s grace, we will love, give of our resources, our home, our time, our money, whatever is needed, one person at a time. We will pray to the Holy One, the One who created us all. We want to encourage you to join us.

“And of some have compassion, making a difference: And others save with fear, pulling them out of the fire; hating even the garment spotted by the flesh.” (Jude 1:22-23)

“Have ye not known? have ye not heard? hath it not been told you from the beginning? have ye not understood from the foundations of the earth? To whom then will ye liken me, or shall I be equal? saith the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who hath created these things, that bringeth out their host by number: he calleth them all by names by the greatness of his might, for that he is strong in power; not one faileth.” (Isaiah 40:21, 25-26)

Jill

Be a Light in Darkness

I am a resident of New York State. I moved to a small town in the center of the Adirondack Park when I was eight. My husband and I then moved to Western NY at age 20 to go to college. We have lived here since.

Over the years I have asked the question, “Why did we choose to stay in New York?” Peter’s answer, “I am a New Yorker. I was born here. The Adirondack Park (Indian Lake) is my favorite place on earth.” He does love our hometown. If he could get an engineering job in Indian Lake, NY, we would probably live there.

I agree the Adirondack Mountains are beautiful. My family and I also love camping on the shores of Lake Ontario every summer. Western New York has four seasons, or as someone recently joked with me, three and a half, and I do like having seasons. I like my house and I love my church. But that is where my list of pros ends. To be honest, I don’t like New York. Our taxes are crazy high! My son has to attend a terrible public high school. It is definitely not worth the school taxes. I determined many years ago to make the best of this place we call home. Until God opens another door, this is where He has me.

For the last few weeks I have seen many social media post and advertisements about an upcoming abortion expansion bill being voted on in the New York State Legislature. It is called The Reproductive Health Act. Over the last several weeks I have read many heated arguments typed in the “comments,” of those post. One thing is for sure, it is a bill that people for and against are passionate about. Yesterday during the day, I watched the live stream from Albany. I saw men and women proudly wearing their hot pink scarves, ties and pins in favor of and in celebration of the bill they knew was about to be passed into law. I also listened as members spoke briefly as they publicly voted for or against the bill. I heard a few statements that hit my core. “This is and will be the most important piece of legislation we will ever sign. This is for our daughter’s and their daughter’s. This is a historic event.” Last night, 46 years to the day after the U.S. Supreme Court handed down its Roe v. Wade decision, the New York Senate passed the Reproductive Health Act in a vote of 38-24. I woke up this morning to pictures of New York Governor Cuomo sitting at a table, signing the bill into law, smiles on the faces of all those around him.

What exactly does the passing of this bill mean? Well I have done a little research, but I am no expert. So, in addition to abortion being permitted up to 24 weeks the “expansion,” now allows:

“The legislation provides a further exception to permit abortion at any point during pregnancy if a health-care practitioner deems it necessary for the mother’s life or health — the exception that was defined in Roe companion case Doe v. Bolton as “all factors — physical, emotional, psychological, familial, and the woman’s age — relevant to the wellbeing of the patient.” In other words, abortion will be available to women essentially on demand up to the point of birth. The RHA will also decriminalize abortion, moving it from the state’s criminal code to the public-health code.”

I wish I hadn’t researched this. I wish I didn’t know. I wish I could just go on living my live as if this wasn’t a real thing, like this doesn’t and isn’t going to happen in New York or anywhere else for that matter.

I do know. This is real. So, what do I do? As a child of God, what do I do? For starters I look to God. He says, “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face, and turn from their wicked ways; then will I hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin, and will heal their land.” (2 Chronicles 7:14 )

Today I pray. I ask Him for forgiveness and wisdom. What can I as one person do in this devastating situation?

Back in August, our littlest guy’s birth parents came to court. In front of a judge and room full of strangers, they signed over their parental rights to him forever! This is our family’s second time experiencing this. It was so emotional. My husband and I had tears streaming down our faces as his parents were asked pointed questions from the judge if they understood what they were doing? We watched these parents with tears streaming down their faces and heads hung low, nod and answer, “yes.” This was NOT a day of celebration for them or us! It was sad. It was a picture of our broken and fallen world. Definitely not something we wanted to celebrate.

I can’t get those smiling faces and hot pink scarves out of my mind. This is a broken and fallen world. And I do not like it. Regardless of what side you are on, I don’t see how any of what happened yesterday, in the signing of that bill, would cause joy and celebration. This is all around devastating! I don’t ever want a mother to have to be in a position that they feel this is their only or best option. Just because this is legal doesn’t mean it has to be a mother’s only option. We have to step it up as a society. We have to do more to prove this isn’t their only option. That means YOU and ME! By supporting those mothers, we will be supporting those babies!! I am talking to the body of Christ! We know better!! It is one thing to say you believe in something and a completely different thing to actually do something about it!!! We need to step out of our comfortable, busy, lukewarm lives and practice what we say we believe! DO SOMETHING!! Invest in the lives of those that are most vulnerable. Pray! Give! Make a difference in the life of one child, one woman, one mother. Invest in and mentor a young man that will one day be a father. I personally believe we as Christians are part of the problem. For the most part we disagree in words but do little to prove our beliefs through our actions.

“What doth it profit, my brethren, though a man say he hath faith, and have not works? can faith save him? If a brother or sister be naked, and destitute of daily food, And one of you say unto them, Depart in peace, be ye warmed and filled; notwithstanding ye give them not those things which are needful to the body; what doth it profit? Even so faith, if it hath not works, is dead, being alone.” (James 2:14-17)

Please, I want to encourage the body of Christ, my church family, my friends, to do something. This morning I find myself really wishing I didn’t live in New York State. I find myself really wishing that our world wasn’t so broken. But mostly, I wish that I could see those around me making a difference. Caring. Being Jesus to those who hurt. Being a light on this very dark day in New York State – one beautiful child of God at a time.

Jill